Pathways and Conduits
by Serial Hag
Summary: "This-" I waved my hand around, "is a bunch of bullsh*t." The bunch of bullsh*t being reincarnation, karma, spiritual powers, demons and a little rock that just got ripped out of my side. Painfully. Lots of needle sharp teeth were involved.
1. Shot

**A/N:** I don't know exactly where this story is going, I'm just writing this as it comes to me. I'm not going to promise speedy updates and it'll be written in first person all the way through. Not Beta'd, so if you see something weird point it out.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own Inuyasha.

**Rating: **_**T**_

_**Pathways and Conduits**_

**Chapter One**

_Kagome_

**I watched the shooter sized jewel spin**, throwing off multicolored rainbows as it wobbled in and out of the patch of sunlight on my desk. So much pain and destruction over such a small thing, at least it was all over. All that was left was finding a way to purify it from this world. A selfless wish.

I snorted. I'm not sure how that came to be the answer to getting rid of this thing. A selfless wish. What wish is selfless? I think Kikyou took a shot in the dark with that reasoning and tried to pass it off as wisdom.

And seriously, how did she come to the conclusion that wishing away Inuyasha's youki was a selfless wish? 'Cause, it so _isn't_. If she had loved Inuyasha so much she wouldn't have asked him to change - you don't ask the people you love to change. And with as twisted and messed up as the Shikon is, it probably would have backfired. _Badly_.

You know, it could've gone either way, two hundred years - give or take a couple years and not counting the time he spent on the Goshinboku - is a long time and that's a lot of moonless nights. Some two thousand, three hundred and forty-three nights and since he spends only about twelve hours as a human he could've - technically - could've been turned into a three or four year old. (Okay, yeah, I took the time figure this out. I was curious and bored and slightly horrified. Gimme a break.) I'm not saying that it would have happened, since he certainly doesn't change into a child on the new moon, but then again, the Shikon's a twisted bit of consciousness. It's more likely though that he would have aged to what a two hundred year old human would look like - rapidly - and then die.

I don't like thinking about it too much. Him dying. I don't like how my eyes automatically burn and my chest tightens so that it hurts to breath. It's not gonna happen and it hasn't happened. No point in worrying about something like that. So I won't. I'm not gonna. Naraku's dead, and he was the most serious threat and now he's dead, so nothing to worry about. And Kikyou's not taking him to Hell, either.

Slowly, the Shikon wobbled to a stop and came to rest against my thumb. I moved my hand over it, rolling it around against my palm and then sent it spinning in circles again. Odd how something so pretty could be so damningly dangerous.

I don't think a wish is gonna end this thing.

I'm not sure what will.

_**A/N: Review?**_


	2. Rabbit Hole

**A/N:** So I've decided to turn this into a series of drabbles and one shots. Again, not Beta'd, so if you see something funny, point it out.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. Damnit.

**Rating: **K

_**Pathways and Conduits**_

**Chapter Two: Rabbit Hole**

_Kagome_

**I used to imagine that I was Alice who had fallen down the rabbit hole and had found herself in Wonderland **– Naraku could be the Red Queen. Miroku, Sango and Shippo would be at the never ending tea party. Kirara's the funny purple cat. Inuyasha could be… well, I'm not quite sure where he would fit into it – he's much too surly to be any of the characters.

Some days, I wonder if I'm dreaming. Sometimes this place doesn't seem real; the things that happen, the people I meet, what if they are just products of my subconscious? And when I wake up will I remember this dream or stress over what my mind is trying to tell me? Or, will I just brush it off as an odd dream?

In my darkest moments, I wonder if I hadn't cracked my head open on the bottom of the well and I'm actually wasting away in a coma in some hospital in Tokyo.

It would hurt if all of this was just a product of my mind.

So I hope, if this isn't real, that I never wake up.

**A/N:** Review?

**Thanks and cookies to:**

**StoryTagger**

**kittykritik**


	3. Reaction

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Rating: **_**T**_

_**Pathways and Conduits**_

**Chapter Three: Reaction**

_Kagome_

"**Okay, no!"** I ground out, standing up abruptly, hands fisting in the pleats of my dusty and bloodied green school skirt, glaring both at the old woman and at the odd boy – man, _youkai_? What was he again? "No, absolutely not; you both belong in the crazy hospital! This-" I waved my hand around, "is a bunch of bullshit."

The bunch of bullshit being reincarnation, karma, spiritual powers, demons and a little rock that just got ripped out of my side. Painfully. Lots of needle sharp teeth were involved.

The _youkai_ snorted while the woman gaped. Good, hope you have a freaking heart attack. "Kagome-_sama_-"

I held out my hands. "No! No, I'm not Kagome-_sama_, in fact, I'm not even a _sama_; I'm Kagome, who goes to school in Tokyo, who just turn fifteen today and is missing a very important test in Algebra and probably worrying the crap of my family. I'm not a reincarnation. I am not a _miko_ with some screwy spirit powers. In fact, I'm not even here. I'm going home. See you crazies in my next delusion fit. Which is hopefully, never ever again." With that, I stomped out of the hut. Or I would have; the clawed hand on arm kind of put a halt to that thinking and just about everything else.

"Hey, Bitch, since you're going home, gimme the _Shikon no Tama_. What would you do with it anyway?"

What is wrong with this kid? I mean, Bitch? Seriously? Where does he get off? I haven't said more than two- oh, could be the fact that I did smash his face into the ground, repeatedly. But he was trying to kill me. I think. He did miss. And he seemed to have been moving awfully slow after having torn apart that centipede monster thingy in seconds. And – and – okay, this is starting to giving me a headache. I'm gonna concentrate on the here and now. The now being the name calling.

I glared at the boy as I shoved my hand into the pocket of my ruined skirt and pulled out the shiny pink rock, holding it between my thumb and forefinger; I waved it under his nose.

"This?" With a flourish and a smirk I dipped my hand into my – once a pristinely white – school shirt and tucked it into the crevice of my cleavage. "You want it? Come get it."

His face turned a gratifying red that started at his cheeks, swept down to his throat and beneath his heavy clothing. His jaw was slightly unhinged.

Hmm, maybe I should grab at my boobs and jiggle 'em to see if he'd sprout a nosebleed.

After several moments – he was still staring with that half horrified, half aroused expression – I removed his loose hand and patted his cheek.

"That's okay. Maybe some other time."

Grinning, I left the hut.


End file.
